Saiai Webnovels

The sky outside the window was a light blue.

Agatha got out of her bed yawning and went to the window. The clouds of the previous day had cleared, and the morning dew on the grass shimmered in the sun like many little gemstones. The dark serpent of the nearby small river now had turned green and blue, and Agatha could see it go all the way to the horizon, vanishing among the faraway hills. Opposite the stream, the reddish tree branches of a small thicket rippled in the wind in a gentle dance.

Now that she saw it in the light of day, the scenery was almost pleasant.

She sighed, wondering what was wrong with her. She was a prisoner, surrounded by non-human creatures, who furthermore would probably kill her on the spot if they found out she wasn’t the person they had been looking for: she thought she would despair, or at least be worried; she had been, at first; but then they had given her food and she had gone to sleep; and after one single night, the strongest feeling insider her right now was the need to eat breakfast.

The room behind her was shabby, its wooden floor was rotted, the dark stone walls made the place gloomy and oppressive and there were holes in the ceiling, and yet it was spacious, half of that floor of the tower, it had a large window and it had a bed. And Agatha hadn’t slept in a real bed since she had escaped from Elis.

It was, indeed, a room, not a cell.

The door wasn’t even locked, she could enter the neighboring room if she wanted. There she could find the guard who was supposed to stop her if she tried to escape but otherwise wasn’t there to constantly watch her every move. She had been left a small space of her own, in which she was under no strict surveillance.

Not that there was any need to keep an eye on her. Even if she managed to reach the stairwell beyond the guard, her escape would stop there: she couldn’t reach the ground floor, not from that side.

The only way to get down was from that window she was looking through right now.

Agatha looked up to the strange object hanging from a beam that stuck out from the roof of the tower above her. It was a thick cylinder, around which someone had wound many ropes, as in a large pulley. The end of one of the ropes was tied to a stone block, and Agatha could imagine how heavy it was by the fact that even as it suspended in mid-air the wind didn’t make it move at all. The other end, and the other ropes, continued downward, ending somewhere she couldn’t see from behind the windowsill. There was the strangest part of that complex machine.

Agatha didn’t need to see it, she had already seen it the evening she had arrived, but she still let her gaze slide along the ropes, until she noticed some movement at ground level.

One of the wolves was departing the tower. On its back there was a lone figure in black. Their head was covered by the hood, so Agatha was unable to see even the color of their hair.

She watched them with slight curiosity, until a different movement caught her attention: accompanied by a symphony of creaks, the pulley had started to turn, making the block slowly move toward the ground.

A few moments later, the door to her room was opened.

«Away from the window.» said to her in a stern tone the So’el woman with purple hair. She was the one who had brought her food the previous evening, and then she had passed the night there, guarding her.

So’el. Agatha still had some trouble getting used to the idea, but those creatures with chalk-white skin could only be So’els.

She obediently moved away from the window and let the woman take her place. She noticed the woman was holding the bowl she had dined in.

From under the windowsill, a shape started to appear: the object on which she had been brought to that room. It was a large wooden crate, secured to one of the ropes wound around the pulley up above. Agatha didn’t understand all that well how it worked, but she had figured out it used the stone block as counterweight and could ascend or descend along the wall of the tower. Its movement could be controlled from inside the crate, through a handle on one of the sides, connected to the pulley above like the rest.

The object reached the window, and the side facing it opened up, forming a ramp. Out of it, with light steps and making his black cloak billow in the wind, came one of the two So’els who had taken her from the camp: the one with mismatched eyes.

The woman, who up to that point had given Agatha the impression of expecting that visit, now seemed surprised to see that man, and asked him something in their language.

Agatha had no idea of their meaning, but tried to at least understand the sounds.

«Bila’th. Vod ithonn?» Her tone sounded hostile, or at least annoyed.

The man gave her a smile and raised both hands, showing her his open palms. «Rihul dohk. Vis ahlrihul hess.» As he finished speaking, he looked at Agatha, still smiling. But there was no warmth in that smile.

The woman sighed.

«Vhoi. Fad ‘ntho nahn thamm. Alhed Dronnur.» having said that, she got up on the windowsill and into the crate.

«Iaa, iaa, iaa.» he answered her, without even looking.

The woman raised the ramp back up and the crate started descending.

Once it was out of view, the man made a gesture with his head toward the window and spoke: «Weird contraption, isn’t it?»

Agatha didn’t answer, looking at him warily. The woman had been cold and aloof. He was different: his expression, the way he looked at her, the tone of his voice, all of him communicated a silent threat: he reminded her of a crow she had once seen eyeing a small mouse before jumping at it and eating it.

He continued, indifferent to her silence: «It’s ingenious. You humans show a surprising amount of creativity… when your purpose is stealing.» He uttered that last sentence in a low growl, as the smile faded from his face.

«Humans? Stealing? What are you talking about?» Agatha spoke without thinking, because she wasn’t following him.

He spread his arms into a large arc. «When we arrived here, a party of humans was taking this tower apart stone by stone, helping themselves with that machine.»

He got close to the wall and put one hand on it, a dark shadow in the shadows. «Imagine. This building is decades, perhaps centuries old. It weathered every storm that came its way, standing tall and proud on this plain. Until you humans tried to dismember it.»

Agatha now had understood. She didn’t need to ask what happened to those humans. «This tower… belonged to you So’els?»

He suddenly turned his head and looked at her. His left eye was a dark abyss, his right one a blade of ice.

«Of course it did.» he said. «Like everything you see around you in your cities.» He laughed bitterly. «“your” cities… There is nothing in this world that is truly “yours”. Even what little you build with your own hands is made with stones taken from our homes, our monuments… our temples.»

His expression turned melancholic, as if he had lost himself in some nostalgic memory.

Agatha knew it was a terrible idea the moment she opened her mouth, but the couldn’t contain herself. That man had succeeded in making her feel once again a strong emotion: annoyance.

«T-Those houses, those monuments, those temples… they were all built by us humans too. You’re the ones who never built anything with your own hands. Because you made us slaves do all the work.»

The bluish-haired man arched his eyebrows and bared his sharp teeth. «Don’t you dare speak to me like that, aburai! What do you think you know?»

Agatha was scared, but not so scared to not keep at it. «For one, I know what that word means.» “Aburai” was a slur So’els used for humans, and it was one of the very few words from their tongue that had been passed on to human society; in order to never forget the suffering they had endured. «“Dull skin”. You despised us. You treated us like animals. You took away our freedom.»

«Freedom of what?» The man suddenly raised his voice. «Freedom of eating more than what you needed?»

He made a step toward her, making the floor creak.

«Freedom of stealing? Freedom of killing? Freedom of trampling everything good and beautiful you found on your path and turning it to dust?»

Agatha’s annoyance turned into proper anger. «There was nothing good or beautiful in your society.» She herself was surprised by the tone of her voice. «You were evil.»

The man opened his eyes wide, stricken. «So this is what you tell yourselves.»

He kept creeping toward her. Even ignoring his mismatched eyes, his face was terrifying. He was close enough to touch her if he reached out with one hand.

Agatha instinctively raised her arm and sent an impulse to her sklerygron… only to remember she no longer had it.

The man chuckled maliciously. «Looking for these?» He put a hand inside his cloak and took out a small gray wristband and a thin strip of cloth, that Agatha recognized immediately.

«It’s strange, to think that such harmless-looking things could become so fearsome a weapon.» His lips curved in a vaguely scornful snarl as he looked at them. «It was only because of this that we lost the war. Of this and of the fact you outnumbered us.» Now he wasn’t really talking to her, he seemed rather to be talking to himself. «Even when you humans create something, you do so only to destroy something else.»

Agatha had to suppress the urge to try grabbing the wristband and the control band.

The man moved once again his gaze to her, without changing expression. «You know, some of my friends wanted to leave these to you. “What could a woman ever do with them?” they told me. Fools. And yet…»

He let the wristband fall. It hit the wood with a ringing sound.

Then he held the strip of cloth with both hands. And he tore it in half. Then he tore it again, and again, until it was turned to shreds.

«There. Now you can keep it. Aren’t you happy?» he said, accompanying his words with a laugh.

Agatha squeezed her fists, but otherwise didn’t react.

«Oh, did I make you upset?»

He was provoking her. Agatha kept looking at the shreds and the wristband on the floor, ignoring him.

«Look at me when I’m talking to you!»

A hand grabbed her hair. The floor disappeared, and in its place Agatha’s field of view was filled by the So’el’s pale face.

«Yes, you hate me.» he hissed at her. «I’ve lost count of all the times I saw that hatred in the eyes of a human. If you were able to hurt me, you would. You’re always like this, all of you. You behave in the same way even with each other.»

His face was a few fingers from hers. Agatha saw her terrified expression reflected in his blue eye. She tried to break free, but his grip was like a vise.

«A room all for yourself, a bed and even two meals a day. All this regard the others have for you makes me sick. We treated you like animals because you are animals. And that’s how you should be kept.»

«Bila’th!»

The voice had come from the window. Both Agatha and the man turned their heads and looked at it.

Without the girl noticing, the crate had come back up.

The green-haired So’el came out of it. The one who had stopped the other one from attacking her the previous evening.

«Reskha.» he said, in a calm yet commanding tone.

The blue-haired man immediately released her, as if he had received an order.

«Nuri vivhannin, Dronnur.» he said, as he got on the crate under the stern gaze of the newcomer. He sounded like he was justifying himself.

Before closing the ramp, he spoke to Agatha once more: «Don’t think for a moment that you humans are any more free now. You still use each other, with far greater cruelty than us. You were beasts then and you’re still beasts now. The only thing that keeps your instincts in check is fear.»

The green-haired man watched him descend, then he spoke to her: «What did you say to him?»

She sniffled, still in shock. Was he accusing her of having provoked him? «Nothing.»

«Did he hurt you?»

«No.»

He extended a hand toward her, but when Agatha drew back he stopped. «Are you sure?» he asked.

«Yes, I’m sure.»

The man lowered his hand. «Alright. But take this.»

Only then Agatha noticed the wooden bowl he was holding in his other hand.

«I brought you breakfast.»

Agatha ate quietly, and slowly. It was an unpleasant-looking slop, but it tasted good.

The man sat on the floor a little distance from her and turned to the window, looking outside.

«It was my turn to come guard you.» he said, suddenly. Was it regret that Agatha felt in his voice?

«Bila’th should have never entered this room. We should have been more careful.»

«So that one… is called Bila’th?»

The So’el shuddered and turned his eyes to her. Maybe he shouldn’t have told me, Agatha thought.

But a moment later he relaxed and said: «Yes. I am Dronnur. And the woman who was here yesterday night and will come back later is Vrell.»

«Pleased to meet you, Dronnur.» Agatha realized how weird that sounded only after she had said it: it had come naturally to her.

Dronnur chuckled, then he went back to looking out the window, without saying anything more.

She took that moment to give once more a look at the wristband and the shreds of her control band, still on the floor. She thought she had been inconspicuous, but the man noticed her.

He though made no movement to take the items off the floor. «You can keep those.» he said, instead.

Agatha ate the rest of her breakfast. Dronnur took the bowl and spoon and left out of the door.

After taking a deep breath, the girl rushed to take the wristband and the shreds, trying to keep quiet and also to suppress the smile that was creeping up on her lips.

The So’els thought that the control band had to be in one piece to work. But it didn’t. The band itself was just a covering. What was important was what was wrapped inside of it.

With one hand on her wristband, Agatha touched one by one the small pieces of the band, until she felt under her fingers a small disc of harder material through the cloth.

The wristband shook slightly.

Agatha brought that piece to her forehead and sent the impulse.

I want a knife.

The wristband trembled, and then it turned into a small sewing needle in her hand.

Agatha blurted out a word that would have earned her a scolding from her mother. Of course it wasn’t going to be that easy.

But if nothing else it was a start.

Now she could think about a way to escape.

---

By the time the clouds had cleared, the walls of Istak had already become a dark shape on the horizon behind them.

«Now we can check our direction.» Ark said. He unsheathed his sword and stuck it into the ground.

Fyra said nothing, but she and Kal exchanged a look and she understood he was thinking the same thing: soon, they were going to have to talk.

Totally unaware of her and Kal’s thoughts, Ark looked at the thin straight shadow cast on the grass by the sword, and at the point where the hilt met the blade he put a bullet from his bag.

The glassturn that followed was spent waiting quietly. Fyra looked at the prairie and the scattered hills around her. On top of a few of them she saw small villages, just like those she had seen during the journey to Istak. She felt like an eternity had passed since then. During that journey, she and all the other refugees from Elis had taken long detours to avoid getting too close to inhabited settlements and cause alarm. But now she was no longer in a column of dozens of people: it was just the three of them. Even if those villages saw them, and it was likely, Fyra doubted their passage would cause any alarm whatsoever.

We don’t need to worry about being sighted. Not yet, at least.

«Ark… where is your sklerygron?» she heard Kal say. It was the question that Fyra too had wanted to ask.

«Not now.» During all this time, Ark had stood motionless, observing the shadow of the sword and its slow movement along the ground. Fyra took note of him shuddering slightly as he heard the question.

«There.» He took another bullet and marked once again the position of the shadow. Then he took the sword out of the ground and used it to draw a line between the two bullets, removing the grass.

«This is the west.» he pointed at the first bullet. Then he drew a second line, perpendicular to the first one, forming a cross of furrowed soil in the green, and pointed at one of its ends. «And this is the north.»

For a third time the sword left a scar on the ground, cutting the other two diagonally, but instead of stopping like the other two times it continued its arc. Ark lifted it toward the mountains on the horizon, as if that third line went on all the way to it, and said: «North-west. We’re more or less in the right direction.»

«Ark, why do you have a sword with you?» Fyra decided she had had enough patience with him.

He turned toward her and Kal and sighed. «Do you think that we won’t be forced to fight, once we get to our destination?»

«That’s not what she meant, and you know it.» Kal intervened. «Why aren’t you using your sklerygron?»

Ark moved his gaze from Kal to her and back, keeping his usual neutral expression.

«Now that I think about it,» she said «i’ve never seen you use your sklerygron.» And not just since the flight from Elis. It was true that, as they grew up, Ark stopped passing much time with them, but she couldn’t remember one single time he had ever shown how he used it.

Ark crouched down and collected the two bullets, he cleaned them up a little and then put them back in his bag, ignoring her and Kal.

«I knew it.» Fyra passed a hand over her face. «I knew it.»

She had had her suspicions for a long time, but she hadn’t wanted to believe them. And yet… and yet now so many small details fell into place.

«No…» said Kal. «Ark, tell me it isn’t true. Tell me you’re not amblynoic.»

The word both had been trying to not utter.

“Amblynoic”: someone who was unable to shape sklerygron. They were rare, but they existed, and they often hid their condition, because it was something frowned upon in certain parts of the Principate: inability to use sklerygron was something typical of So’els.

But even if that was nothing but an idiotic prejudice no one in Elis shared, that didn’t mean amblynoics were like normal people. It was as if they were missing one limb.

«Is this the reason you dodged the draft?» Kal continued.

«That was my father’s decision.» Ark finally talked back, indignant. «I had nothing to do with it.» And then he headed off in the direction he had marked on the ground.

«You, you went against a spathar in Elis.» Fyra was still flabbergasted. «One of the most fearsome warriors in the Principate. You went against him unable to use sklerygron. You are crazy, Ark. Your mother was right.»

Ark stopped, his shoulders shaking. Only then Fyra realized what she had just said. She had heard about Semna from Kal, but in her astonishment she had momentarily forgotten about it.

She tried to say: «Sorry.»

But before she could pronounce the second syllable, Ark spoke. His tone was calm, but the still felt the anger underneath.

«Would you have preferred Mak to face him? Or Agatha?»

Fyra didn’t know what to say, but she tried anyway: «No, I…»

Ark turned around and moved back toward her. «Or maybe you’d rather have been there yourself in my place? Do you think you’d have fared better? You’d have had more chances than me?»

The regret Fyra had felt gave way to vague annoyance. Ark just didn’t understand. She had no other choice than to answer: «Yes, I do.»

He immediately pointed his sword at her. «Then show it to me.» And she realized she had fallen into his provocation. This was exactly the result Ark had wanted.

But she was perfectly fine with that.

«I will.»

She took off her mantle, sent the impulse and her bracelets turned into gloves around her fists. The same did her anklets, enveloping her boots.

«Hey, no, come on. We don’t have time for this right now. Calm down, both of you.» Kal tried to put himself between them.

«Kal, get out of the way. Somebody has to give this moron a lesson. He doesn’t realize the danger he’s in!»

He had even had the gall to say Elef would have just gotten himself killed if he had come with them! Why don’t you think about yourself before you think about others?

«Fyra’s right, Kal.» said Ark, as he took off his own mantle. «Step aside. I don’t want to hurt you by mistake.»

Hearing that, Fyra scoffed. «You’re not going to hurt anyone today.» She raised her fists.

Ark raised his sword. «We’ll see about that.»

Seeing he couldn’t make them stand down, Kal moved away, shaking his head.

She followed him with her gaze, apologetic. I know you’re worried about Agatha and we’re taking precious time with this. But…

She was unable to finish that thought.

When she realized that Ark had thrust at her as quick as lightning, his sword was already a hair’s breadth from her stomach.

«You’re dead.» he said, straightening up.

Fyra was still trying to process what had just happened, but she reflexively answered: «T-That’s not fair! I wasn’t ready!»

«Do you expect your opponent to give you the time to “get ready” in a real fight?» Ark made a second thrusting attack with his sword.

This time Fyra at least was looking at him though. She dodged by jumping backward, and now that she was at the right distance she immediately did a high kick.

A blade emerged from the sole of her boot, of the right length to reach Ark’s neck. It was blunted, of course, all it was going to do was leave him a nice bruise.

However, Ark crouched, in a fluid motion, and let the blade pass above his head. Fyra realized too late she had put too much momentum in her kick and was unable to stop her movement. Ark thrust a third time and touched her side, that she had pretty much presented to him. «You’re dead.»

Fyra had to suppress the rage mounting inside of her. Ark So far had just been lucky, helped along by the fact that she had been kidding around without getting serious.

She took a deep breath and entered her fighting stance again, raising her left arm to her heart. Then she made a feint with her right arm.

Ark fell for it: he tried to dodge a blow that was not going to come; and in doing so, he exposed his right flank and his weaponless arm.

Fyra immediately launched the real attack with her left hand. But Ark raised his left arm over his head and managed to protect the opposite shoulder with his sword, parrying the blow. Then, while Fyra’s blade was still bouncing back due to that blow’s force, he stepped forward and slapped the crook of her elbow with the flat of his own blade. It felt like she had been whipped. She screamed and was left unable to react as Ark touched her chest with the tip of his sword. «You’re dead. But before dying you also lost an arm.»

At that point, suffering from both pain and frustration, Fyra saw red. Lunging at her opponent with a beast-like roar, she raised her arm and slashed with her hand, aiming at his head.

She even forgot to blunt her blade. For one single instant, she would later realize much to her horror, she really intended to kill.

«Fyra, NO!»

Kal’s voice stopped her.

But it didn’t stop Ark.

Who grabbed her arm and moved under it, then twisted it behind her back and raised his sword to her neck.

«With this, you’ve died four times. Want to die a fifth one?»

As Kal ran toward them, Fyra took a moment to catch her breath and noticed that Ark didn’t even look tired, then she answered: «No. I give up. You’ve shown me you know how to fight. I had… I had misjudged you.»

«Very well.» Ark let her go and put the sword back on his belt. «I’m sorry I hurt you.»

She looked at him in disbelief. She had expected him to at least gloat a little about his victory. But then she remembered it was Ark she was dealing with.«D-Don’t worry about it. It’s not even a scratch.» she answered him, massaging her arm.

Kal let out a sigh of relief. «Never do that again, alright? Either of you. Let’s go, now.»

After a quick glance to the mark on the ground, that luckily (or was that intentional?) had not been damaged in the duel, the three resumed their journey north-west.

«Ark, we’ll no longer say anything about this matter,» said Kal, as they walked «but please be careful. I don’t want you to take unnecessary risks.»

«I won’t, trust me.» he answered. «That’s everything I ask of you.»

---

The sun quickly set, yielding the sky to the stars.

It was the beginning of the month. The Red Moon rose, large and round, still almost full. Kal knew that eventually, during its slow arc along the celestial vault, the Blue Moon would rise as well from the same spot, appearing as the thinnest of slivers.

And then the chase would begin.

The Blue Moon was as big as the Red Moon, you could see it clearly around the end of the first week and the beginning of the last week of every month, but it moved faster. Every night, despite its ever-late start, the moon that rose second managed to catch up with the one that rose first, right at the peak of their arc, and for a single instant the two heavenly bodies were aligned. Then the Blue Moon overtook the Red Moon, being the first to disappear under the horizon to the west.

Ever since before the Liberation, many different tales were told on the two moons. Some said they were two siblings, some said they were a parent and a child, and some said they were a pair of lovers. In any case, all tales agreed on the tragedy of their situation: whatever crime they had committed, and whichever of the two (if not both) was the one who committed it, they had been condemned to never see each other again; each night the Blue Moon raced, or leaped, through the sky to reach the Red Moon, and each night it got very close, but its excessive impetus dragged it away, before the two could touch. And not only that: as one grew more luminous with the passing of the weeks, the other grew darker, and when one shone full and splendid, the other disappeared; even when both were visible in the night sky, the two moons were unable to even look at each other.

Kal had never understood why some narrators got so sad as they told those tales.

Never, until the previous day. Now he couldn’t help seeing himself and Agatha in the two main roles, as some sort of ill omen.

As such, he was more than happy to ignore the two moons and search the sky for the Three Messengers.

So, first of all…

«There. That’s the Tetragon.» Kal immediately located it and pointed at it.

«That’s right.» Ark said.

The spot in the sky Kal pointed at was occupied by two small stars. Though at the moment it was not visible, later in the night a third star would rise not far from the other two, and a fourth one, equidistant from the others, was going to remain under the horizon for that season. The four stars, low in the night sky, placidly spun in a circle, as if a pivot had been fixed to the center of the square they formed.

And Kal, like everyone, had been taught that that pivot marked the north. No matter the season, if you wanted to go north you just had to go toward the Tetragon.

«Of the four stars that make it up,» Ark continued, «those two are Za’ni and Syder. If we now draw a line going from one to the other like this…» He helped himself with a finger «And we extend it… There’s Uvann, Zou and Duri: the Three Messengers.»

His finger now pointed at three stars forming a triangle.

«The Three Messengers set in the direction Uvann is looking. That’s the north-west. We’re still more or less in the right direction.»

«If neither of you is tired, let’s carry on a little longer.» Fyra resumed walking.

Kal would’ve told her he had had no intention of stopping, but something in her voice made him keep quiet. He felt that something was worrying her.

They walked on in the night, as the Red Moon rose high in the sky and the Three Messengers on the contrary fell toward the horizon.

The only sound that accompanied them was that of their own footsteps on the grass. Every once in a while they spotted the light of some lamp or lantern coming from the villages on top of the hills, but in the end even those faded out, and the hills themselves grew more sparse, giving way to an endless plain devoid of human presence and whose monotony was broken only by short shrubbery.

Eventually, Kal judged they had crossed at least one stadion from the last hill behind them, Fyra suddenly halted.

«Let’s stop here for tonight.»

«But the Three Messengers haven’t set yet.» said Ark, halting as well.

«I see something, that way.»

«What do you see?» Kal asked her, as she sat down on the grass.

«There’s a tall, narrow structure, straight ahead.» she answered. «It could be the tower, and in that case it’s better for us to stop here.»

«Are you saying the tower’s already in sight?» Ark squinted at the darkness in front of them. «That old man had said it was a day and a half away.»

Kal though almost didn’t hear him. «If we’re there already, then let’s go!»

«No, Kal.» Fyra didn’t stand up. «Even like this, we’re still far. We won’t be able to reach it tonight. And even if we somehow managed to, we’d get tired. We’ll need all our strength when we arrive.»

«Well, let’s at least get a little closer then!» he objected.

«Kal,» she gave him a serious and stern look. «do you know what a tower is for? To have a wide view of the surrounding terrain and sight approaching enemies. I’m not taking any risks: if we “get closer” and then camp for the night, who is to say we won’t be spotted as morning comes?»

Kal realized she was right.

But then Ark said: «That’s not a tower. That’s a column. And I think it’s much closer than you think.»

He moved, making a few steps to the right, then coming back and making as many steps to the left.

«Yeah.» he said finally. «Without points of reference and in this dark it’s hard to figure it out, but I’m pretty sure it’s about three or four stadia from here.»

Fyra stood up and checked as he had done. Kal tried to look harder, but he still saw nothing.

«Alright, I was wrong.» Fyra said, with a sigh. «We can go on until we get there.»

They set off again, and soon enough Kal too saw the dark shape ahead of them. It grew large and tall much sooner than the three expected, and when they reached it the Three Messengers hadn’t sunk under the horizon yet.

Massive stone cylinders, each one so wide that Kal wouldn’t have been able to close his arms around it, had been piled one over the other on top of a cubic pedestal.

«What do you think it’s doing here, in the middle of nowhere?» Kal looked around, but he saw no trace of other buildings. That huge column was standing there alone.

«I don’t know.» Ark touched its base. «But it must have been here for a very long time: look at these cracks; and the top is missing, too.»

«Do you think it’s older than the Liberation?»

«Much older.»

As the two looked at that solitary pillar, the Red Moon passed over it, and Kal had the impression that the pillar became an enormous finger, silently pointing at it.

The noise of Fyra ripping out the branches of a nearby bush distracted him from that melancholic image.

She lit a small fire, careful to position it behind the column, then she sat down and drank a sip from her canteen. The other two did the same.

«Yes, come to think of it we’ve been lucky in finding this. I just needed a little light.» As she said that, Fyra took in her hands a branch that was thicker and straighter than the others, one that she had not used for the fire, and she started to carve it with her sklerygron.

«What are you doing?» Kal asked. Ark too watched her with curiosity.

«When that wolf appeared in the camp, yesterday,» she began talking, with slight hesitancy «I was unable to do anything.»

Neither Kal not Ark spoke. They solemnly waited for her to continue.

«I didn’t know what to do, and even when I thought about something to do I made the most stupid decision I could make. I let myself panic. But next time, it will be different.» After removing the bark, Fyra started to dig inside that piece of wood from one end. «Next time I’ll have this.»

«And… what would this be?» chiese Ark.

Fyra explained it to both of them.

«It could work.» Ark said.

«I would have never thought of that.» said Kal. «Where did you get this idea?»

Fyra smiled and looked at Ark. «He was the one who gave it to me. He once told me that wolves are very sensitive to this stuff.»

«Really?» Ark said.

Fyra’s smile faded a little. Perhaps a little enough for Ark not to notice, but Kal did.

«You don’t remember?»

«I remember reading in a book that wolves are weak to that kind of thing. But I don’t remember ever telling you.»

Fyra went back to her carving, letting out a faint sigh. «Well, no matter. It was a long time ago, when we were kids.»

An unpleasant silence followed.

«Actually,» Kal tried to break it «I don’t remember anything about it either. And that’s weird. If Ark told us something like that, we’d have talked about it for days.»

«Of course you don’t remember.» said Fyra, with a tinge of annoyance in her voice, without lifting her eyes from her work. And in a voice so low that Kal was unsure he had heard correctly, she added: «Because he had told it only to me, not to everyone.»

---

The big man with hay-colored hair was sitting by the river, fishing.

Agatha watched him from the window, while she ate.

She had looked out with the intention of studying the scenery around the tower and formulate an escape plan, but that man had drawn her attention.

Behind her, Dronnur as well got close to the window and stood watching.

Suddenly, something took the bait; and judging by the strength with which the man was now pulling his fishing rod, and by his excited cries, it was something big.

Two more So’els moved closer to the fisherman, encouraging him, if Agatha had been correctly interpreting the tone of their voices. She recognized Vrell and Bila’th.

With one final tug, an enormous fish was drawn out of the water. From the tip of its tail to its mouth similar to a long beak, Agatha thought it must be at least two, two-and-a-half feet long: half as long as she was tall.

The hay-haired man grabbed it and then lifted it in the air with both hands, among the jubilant cries of his comrades, and his mouth widened in a huge smile.

They look… happy, Agatha thought, surprised.

«Because they are happy. That was a great catch.» Dronnur’s words made her gasp. She hadn’t realized she had spoken out loud.

«What is it that surprises you so much, Helena Dorina?» the So’el continued. In his green eyes, she saw bot curiosity and mockery. Though it had been only one day and two nights since she had been imprisoned in that tower, Agatha had learned that Dronnur was sociable, or at least did not disdain talking with her, unlike Vrell, who was cold and spoke as little as possible.

And yet there she was, that same Vrell, laughing and apparently praising her comrade. Not to mention Bila’th. That man, who the previous day had called her “animal”, and maybe would have killed her if Dronnur hadn’t intervened, now was patting the back of the fisherman, with a big grin on his face; and even if he was baring those frightening triangular teeth, that smile was undoubtedly sincere.

«I don’t know.» she answered Dronnur. «It’s just that… I never expected that from So’els. They’re laughing, they’re having fun together. They look so…»

«…Human?» Dronnur finished the sentence for her, as if he already knew what she was going to say.

Agatha felt herself blush.

«We could say the same about you humans.» he continued. «When we see you show compassion or affection for each other, when we see you enjoy yourselves all together, some of my friends would say you look just like So’els.»

«Some of your friends? You wouldn’t?»

Dronnur shuddered, and Agatha understood she had once again talked too much.

«No, I wouldn’t.» he then answered, with some hesitation. «I’ve passed with your kind enough time to understand that you have our same capacity for feeling and sharing emotions: you too have friends, parents, siblings, children; you too have… people you love.»

At that moment, the hay-haired man looked up, shouted: «D-Dronnurr! R-R-Ronnk-kieh!» and seemed to want to show him his trophy.

Dronnur immediately raised his fist in the fisherman’s direction, laughing loudly, and then he let out a sound that to Agatha seemed a cross between a howl and a bird’s call. The man on the ground responded by laughing in turn.

The two with him looked up as well.

And Agatha locked eyes with Bila’th.

The blue-haired So’el’s expression soured in an instant: his happy grin turned into a threatening snarl, like that of a beast that has spotted an enemy.

Agatha was unable to withstand that two-colored glare, and she drew back from the window, making her bowl fall on the floor with a resounding clack.

«What’s his problem?» she murmured. «Why is he so angry at me?»

«He’s not angry at you.» Dronnur answered her as he picked up the bowl, though she had been venting rather than asking a proper question. «He’d act like that with any human.»

«How can he do that!?» she asked, at that point. «How can he smile one moment, and the next…» Agatha realized that Bila’th scared her now more than he had done the previous day. She couldn’t comprehend how someone could change their attitude so quickly. Perhaps that was the difference between So’els and humans.

Dronnur, as he too moved away from the window, answered with the tone of someone forced to state the obvious: «Shar is his friend. And it is normal to smile with friends. When he saw you, it was as if you ruined a happy moment for him. A stupid reaction, I know, but what can you do?»

«Shar?»

Dronnur was disconcerted for a moment, surprised by the question.

«Yes. That’s the one who was fishing. It’s not his actual name: we call him like that because…» he raised a hand to his head, then he stopped. «Ah, never mind.»

Agatha though thought she had her chance: «Dronnur, Bila’th, Vrell, Shar. What’s the name of the others?»

She was a little tired of classifying them by their features.

«Well…» the So’el answered, counting for her on the fingers of one hand. «The other two are Ragi and Kaiver. You’ve met them both when you arrived: Ragi is the one who… uh…»

He probably meant the red-haired one, the one he had stopped from killing her that evening.

So you’re six in total, she thought. She hadn’t asked it to have that information, but now that she had received it she carefully stored it in the back of her mind.

Dronnur suddenly stiffened. His expression turned cold, like when she had seen him the first time.

«Yes, exactly. There’s six of us in total.»

Agatha bit her tongue. She had voiced her thoughts out loud again.

«Actually, if we want to be precise now there’s five of us.» Dronnur crossed his arms, still holding her bowl with one hand. «Kaiver has left to tell the people who wish to have you that you are now in our custody.» His eyes had become almost more piercing than those of Bila’th. «And in the beginning there were seven of us, Until the day before yesterday one of us died while we were taking you. Is that enough information for you?»

«I, I didn’t…» Agatha tried to justify herself, but he interrupted her, uncaringly.

«You won’t be able to escape anyway. Another couple of days at most and then we’ll hand you over and that’ll be the end of the story. At least for you.» He raised an eyebrow. «What’s wrong? Why that face? Did you think that just because I don’t act like Bila’th I liked you?»

He laughed. A dark, bitter laugh.

«Let me tell you a story, Helena Dorina.» he said then, after taking a deep breath. Any trace of affability had gone from his face. «Maybe I’ll even tell you more than one, but let’s start with this one.

«Once upon a time… do you too use this phrase when you start your stories? Once upon a time there were a woman and her son. The child’s father was long gone, but the memories the woman had of him were happy, and she loved with all her heart the boy he had left her. The life the two led wasn’t a comfortable one, but it was a tranquil one nonetheless. Even in their poverty, each had the other’s support. And when you’re together with people you love, even the worst dung heap can look like a garden full of flowers. The woman even dared to be hopeful: the “Liberation” had passed, the war was over. What importance could race have anymore?

«Alas, the woman was naive. For the humans, the war had never really ended. It didn’t matter that those two had never hurt anyone, it didn’t matter that they weren’t even in any condition to hurt anyone if they wanted to,it didn’t matter that the boy had been born in a world in which power was already firmly in human hands. They looked at that skin, at that hair, at those teeth, and only saw an enemy to crush.

«They came one morning, a vast clamoring crowd, an enormous beast with dozens of heads, all thirsty for blood. The woman managed to hide the boy, but she couldn’t hide herself. Or perhaps… perhaps she chose not to. Perhaps she hoped the beast would content itself with her. We’ll never know.

«They hurled stones at her. Then, when there were no more stones left, they descended upon her. They ripped her clothes off and kicked and punched every part of her they could reach. They could have used blades, but they wanted her to suffer. Once they finally grew bored, they took a rope, wound it around her neck and hung her from a wooden beam. If the Father Eternal showed mercy that day, by that point she was already dead.

«The boy saw everything, from his hiding spot. He saw the humans tear his mother to pieces, he saw them smile as they murdered the person he loved most in the entire world and spat at her.

«I’m not going to pretend I know what life you’ve lived, Helena Dorina, so I will not tell you that you can’t understand that boy’s pain. If, however, today that boy hates humans, if today he looks at you and sees only one of the monsters who took away everything he loved, if he despises you and would gladly kill you for the simple fact that you are human… I have no intention of judging him.

«And not only because that boy is my best friend. I’ve told you his story, but I could have told you that of another boy, who one night woke up drifting away in the current of a river, surrounded by corpses and with a bullet in his head. To this day, that boy does not remember his own name, he doesn’t even know if those corpses around him that night were those of his family. The humans took everything away from him too.

«I could even tell you my story. I could tell you of how my brother bled to death in the middle of the road and nobody helped him, because he had dared to insult a human. But I think you get it by now.

«Everyone here has suffered because of your kind. The oldest among us were not yet adults when you did your Liberation, and nevertheless you “punished” us anyway, for a crime we knew nothing about. For a crime we could know nothing about.

«Not all of us hate you humans, Helena Dorina. However, don’t think you’ll find even a single one of us who cares about your fate.»

With a loud snap, a crack appeared on the bowl Dronnur held in his hand.

«We have an interest in keeping you alive and in one piece because you are a source of income for us. That’s all.»

Agatha was dazed. She blurted out the first thing that came to her mind: «B-But you said that you know. You know that we are like you, that we too can feel affection, that we too have people we love! And despite this, you…»

«Yes.» Dronnur replied, as he headed for the door. And as he closed it behind him, he concluded:

«This should make you realize that if you’re more afraid of Bila’th than of me, you’re making a grave mistake.»

---

In the light of the early morning of their second day of travel, finally the tower appeared on the horizon.

This time there was no doubt about it: it stood tall, thin and dark on the background of the mountains, with their tops already white with snow.

Fyra immediately made all three stop. «If we now can see it, then they can see us as well. From here on we have to avoid open spaces as much as we can.»

Easier said than done, Kal thought. The tallest thing he saw between them and the tower was the blades of grass.

He saw a woodland to the north that would suit them perfectly. But going there would have meant taking a detour, and every moment was precious. Kal thought he had put his anxiety under control before departing, but he realized he hadn’t managed to at all.

He sighed, then he pointed at the forest and said: «There. We’ll be able to advance under the cover of trees.»

Fyra nodded. «Yes, I was thinking the same thing.»

Probably Kal must have let some of his thoughts transpire from his face, because immediately after that she put a hand on his shoulder and said: «It’s all right. We’re almost there.»

He did his best to answer with a smile.

They ran up to the closest trees, reaching them just as the sun completed its rise in the north-east. And after taking a glassturn to catch their breath, they moved on, making their way forward under the shadow of their branches.

From what Kal could see, the woods formed a rough crescent shape, a tip of which extended precisely toward the tower. A lucky break he was thankful for.

The sun was beginning its descent when the three reached that tip. The tower now was right in front of them. A wide octagon of dark stone, with a protruding side to the right; on it, facing them directly, there was the only door to the inside they could see. Nearby, further to the right, they could see a river, and a narrow rope bridge crossing it.

There were no further covers between them and the tower, but by now they were so close that the top of the structure was hidden by the trees’ foliage, and they could clearly see the people around its base.

They hid behind a fallen tree trunk, whose rotted wood was covered in vines.

From their position, they saw two individuals, both pale as bone, with pointy ears and hair of alien colors: one’s was red like fire, the other’s as yellow as hay. Kal had seen the So’el corpse at the camp, but seeing them alive gave a completely different impression. Up to that moment, he hadn’t really processed the fact that in order to save Agatha he was going to have to fight something that wasn’t human.

However, ignoring their unsettling appearance, the most important thing was that both were armed: he could see blades of various length shimmer under their cloaks, and they probably also had crystalarms, mikrai at least.

But there were just two of them. And his sister was waiting for him. He mustered up his courage and started to go over the trunk.

«Kal, no!» Fyra forcefully pulled him back, making him fall on his back behind the tree.

«What are we waiting for now?!» he complained in a low voice, after sitting up. «We have the numerical advantage. Let’s go!» He had thought that Fyra, out of all of them, would be the first one itching to go.

«Curses, Kal!» Fyra punched the trunk. «T-Think before you act! And look closer!»

She pointed to him a shadowed spot, behind the So’els. And there Kal saw a large creature lying on its side.

«The wolf.» he said. He had forgotten about that.

«Oh, thank Man you realized! And now think about it for a moment: do you really think there’s no one else inside that tower? Are you here to save Agatha or to get yourself killed? And why on Earth do I have to tell you these things!?»

It was then that Kal realized Fyra was shaking. And he realized that she felt the urge to charge in more than him, but at the same time was holding herself back, because she knew that would be a stupid idea. She was taking this situation more seriously than him.

«I, I’m sorry.»

Fyra took a sharp breath, widening her nostrils. «You and your “I’m sorry”…!»

«Quit it, both of you, or they’ll hear us.» said Ark, who meanwhile had drawn his mikra. «How many do you think there are in total, Fyra?»

She sighed through her teeth. «I have no idea, that’s why we must wait and observe them. But if you want a cautious estimate, we need to think there’s at least two more. Let’s stay here and see if any more appear. And in the meantime let me think of a plan!»

While she spoke, Kal had noticed something else that was strange. «What is that thing over there?»

Ark followed his gaze. «I don’t know. It looks like a crane of some kind. I think that large wheel to the side is used to lift and lower the load. However I don’t see any hook, and I don’t understand the use of the other wheel. Why put it directly inside the load?»

As Ark scratched his head, the tower’s door opened and out came a third So’el, with purple hair, who headed with quick steps right to that mysterious machine.

They entered the crate and put their hand on the handle inside, and the crate started to rise.

Kal, Fyra e Ark watched the scene speechless.

The crate with the So’el inside disappeared from view.

The wheel on the ground kept turning for a while, as if left to itself, then without any warning it stopped, and a few moments later started spinning again but in the other direction.

The crate came back down, but the So’el who got out of it was different from the one who had entered it: this one had green hair.

«See? With them we’re at four already.» Fyra murmured.

For four glassturns they kept waiting and watching. At some point the red-haired So’el entered the tower, out of their sight. Later another one exited the tower, this one with dark-blue hair. They didn’t seem to be guarding it or anything, they looked like they were just… passing the time.

«Well, I’d say we’ve seen enough.» Fyra said, taking a small stick and starting to draw a rough rendition of the tower on the ground.

«This is our objective. The entrance is here. Beyond that door there’s probably a stairwell leading to the higher floors of the tower. However, I think there’s a section that can be reached only through the use of this machinery here.» She pointed with her stick at each listed element.

«What makes you think that?» Kal asked.

«She’s right.» Ark replied. «That thing doesn’t look very safe. If I were in them I wouldn’t use it, unless absolutely necessary.»

«The point is we’re going to have to split.» Fyra said. «Not knowing precisely where Agatha is kept, if we want to search the entire building somebody will have to get on that thing. And I don’t think it will be possible to use it without being noticed, if there’s any So’el nearby.»

«I’ll do it. I already have an idea on how.» Ark immediately volunteered.

Fyra seemed she wished to object, but then said: «Fine. Then you, Kal, will enter the door. Look for Agatha floor by floor. I’ll take care of the wolf.» She touched the object she now kept hanging from her neck with a small cord. «We’ll have to be quick and try our best to not be seen. Our enemies outnumber us.»

Kal had the feeling Fyra now was starting to enjoy it. He thought that maybe she was trying to emulate her father.

«There’s at least five of them.» she continued. «Let us memorize their faces and their names.» she turned toward the tower.

«Metal.» she pointed at the one with dark-blue hair; «Sandy.» she pointed at the one with yellow hair; «Yolk and Leafy, who at the moment are inside.» she pointed at the door; «And finally Violet, who got up from there.» she pointed at the machine.

«We have to prevent any of them from giving the alarm, and if they do we absolutely must keep them separate. We’ll act at dusk, when it will be harder for them to see us. We can do this. Any questions?»

«I had almost forgotten your uncanny talent in making names up, Fyra.»

«Ark, shut up.»

Afterword

Hi. It’s been a while since I said anything.
I started this journey 5 months ago, in May.
I had already written at least one third of the novel I had in mind, split into three volumes.
By one small chapter a week, i had figured I’d get to the end of “volume one” in January 2026.
And at that point I was planning to take a break, which I already knew I needed.
However… life always knows how to screw up our plans.
In these months, many truly wonderful things happened to me.
And also others, not so wonderful.
This novel has worn me down more than I anticipated.
It took a toll on my mental health, and ruined my relationship with the people who matter the most to me.
I fear I have to move my break up a bit.
The story doesn’t end this way, not even the story I have already written.
So sooner or later I fully intend to come back.
But for the moment, this is my stop.
Thank you.
I hope you liked what you read.
And God bless you all.